In the Dark
by Kathryne O'Brien
Summary: Beacon Hills was literally a beacon for the supernatural. So, considering, it wasn't that surprising that Keller and her brother ended up there. What ended up being surprising was their reasons for staying there. Beacon Hills changed everything for them, but how would they change Beacon Hills? Only time will tell...


**Well, hi! if you're reading this, then you're expressing some interest in my new fic, In the Dark! I'm glad you are! Now, before I go ranting on….The first chapter! It's a little bit weird in the beginning, but I promise it gets better! I know I SHOULD be updating Breaking the Barriers, but that'll be coming soon, I promissseee. Please read the bottom author's note to get an idea of where this is set and such. **

**Disclaimer: Me? Own Teen Wolf? Yeah. Uh huh. Because I would **_**TOTALLY**_** put Stiles through all of this trauma. Get your facts right, people. In case you're wondering, I also do NOT own the lyrics to My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light 'Em Up). I'm perfectly content with Fall Out Boy owning that.**

_**xXx**_

_A constellation of tears on your lashes,_

_Burn everything you love,_

_Then burn the ashes_

_In the end everything collides;_

_My childhood spat back out the monster that you see…._

_**xXx**_

The smell of gasoline burned my nose, but I breathed deeply anyway, ignoring the headache it gave me and the bitter taste it left in my mouth. I toyed with the pack of matches in my hand, watching the clear liquid drip from almost everything in the room. My brother and I shared a brief look.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Keller?" he asked me, though I noticed that there wasn't an ounce of hesitation in him. As usual, he expected me to be the one to back out. I fought the urge to scowl. I was thirteen. I wasn't going to be a baby about this.

"If we don't, then the cops'll know that something's wrong with Mom's death." I pointed out, crossing my arms. "And on top of that, _they'll_ be able to find us again." He already knew all of this, but Chris always wanted to make sure I understood how all of the dominoes were placed. He was only ensuring that I had a clear idea of why we were burning our home down with our mother's body still inside.

"Then there's nothing left to wait for." Chris told me, hitching his bag higher up his shoulder. "You have your bag ready?" I nodded. I'd already put my backpack in the truck. "Then light it up."

I didn't need any other encouragement. Freeing a single match from the group, I struck it until the end lit up, then let it fall from my fingers into a puddle of gas. The reaction was instantaneous. Flames started crawling up my favorite armchair, quickly consuming the worn fabric. Neither of us stayed to watch anything else go up. Instead, Chris silently ushered me out the door, and we stepped out into the night, the smell of smoke following us out. If he was bothered by burning our house down, he didn't show it, emotionlessly sliding into his beat up Chevy and waiting for me to do the same. I wasn't sure how I felt, so I kept a blank mask on, glancing over my shoulder once before getting in the passenger seat.

"_Bye, Mom." _I mouthed as Chris started the truck and pulled out. We were leaving our home and family behind. I couldn't decide if I was happy about it, or sad. It was like a mix of both.

My name's Keller Ryan. My brother's name is Chris. I was thirteen and he was seventeen when we burned our house down with our dead mother still inside. We lived in a small, seemingly harmless town in Washington at the time, in a three bedroom, two bathroom house. After about six months, we realized it wasn't as harmless as we thought. We moved around a lot after that, never staying in any place for longer than three months. Then, a month before my seventeenth birthday, we moved to Beacon Hills, California. That's where everything changed.

_**xXx**_

I hated the new truck. Despite wanting to seem discreet, Chris had decided to get a huge, flashy, firetruck red truck, and I absolutely hated it. There wasn't enough room in it, it was too big, and did I mention it was _red? _I wasn't a fan of it _at all_. I especially hated that he was going to drive me to school in it. I'd offered to walk to school, but Chris had quickly shot me down, telling me that Beacon Hills was too dangerous for me to be out alone. If it was so dangerous, I didn't understand why we moved there. It was _literally _a beacon, after all.

"Kell, we need to leave in half an hour!" Chris yelled from the hall. I groaned, pulling my pillow over my head and pretending I didn't hear him. The blankets had accepted me as one of their own. If I left now, I'd lose their trust. I heard my door open and debated playing dead, but, before I could really consider it, my pillow was snatched away, along with the blankets.

"Hey, I'm sleeping here!" I protested, opening my eyes. Chris didn't appear that amused. But maybe that was just because of how he looked. My brother was tall, standing at six feet and five inches, with arms roughly the size of my head, had a square jaw that always looked clenched, a brooding forehead set over harsh blue eyes, and a tangle of black hair that was always falling into aforementioned eyes.

"You have school soon. Get up." he ordered, taking my newfound friends with me. _Rude. _Grumbling under my breath, I hauled myself out of bed, and, sleepily hopping over a few unpacked boxes, I made my way to the bathroom to assess the damage. I was hoping my hair would have a minimal amount of tangles and grease so I could avoid having to take the world's fastest shower.

Peering at my reflection, I decided I could avoid the shower until later. Pulling my sky blue bangs out of my eyes, I quickly washed my face and brushed my teeth. I spent a few more moments examining my reflection as I completed my dental routine for the morning, trying to distract myself from the harsh taste of my cinnamon mouthwash. I hated cinnamon. Distantly, I wondered why I never got mint mouthwash, like a normal person.

Like Chris, I looked odd. Unlike Chris, I didn't have monster-sized arms and eyes the color of ice. I was actually somewhat small. I was an average height, but I was pretty sure I only weighed a hundred and ten pounds. It wasn't like I watched what I ate or exercised a lot. My wide eyes were a bright violet, contrasting with my ghostly pale skin and dyed-blue curly hair. Human doctors would call my 'condition' Alexandria's Genesis, a disease in which the 'victim' has violet eyes, pale skin, a slender body structure, dark brown or black hair, and a _fantastic _immune system. Whatever the doctors wanted to believe. I'm sure it was perfectly normal to them for people with Alexandria's Genesis to have a silverfish tint to their skin and slightly pointed ears.

Done swishing, I spit the mouthwash out and made a face, snatching my brush and retreating back to my room. I was in a lazy mood, so I simply brushed out my bright blue curls and shook my bangs until they covered my dark brows and a good amount of my eyes. Satisfied with my hair, I dug through the bags in front of my tiny closet until I found a suitable outfit for the day. A black pair of skinny jeans to be worn with my favorite combat boots, and a band shirt I'd had for at least two years.

I dressed quickly, yanking on the jeans that were just a _little _too tight and then swiftly pulling on a shirt Chris had tried to get rid of at least twelve times since I'd gotten it, then I put my feet into my boots and laced them up. I completed the outfit with a black beanie and called it good. I figured that I'd get a few weird looks, but what did it matter? I'd be there for half of the semester, then Chris and I would be halfway across the country. Maybe we'd finally go to Florida.

"Are you ready yet?" Chris asked, poking his head into my room. Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I shook my head.

"Not yet, no. I need to find my bag" I told him, shifting things around so I could find my new messenger bag.

"It's in the truck, Kell. Can we go now?" So impatient. Grimacing at the thought of having to ride in the Jr. Fire Fighters' truck, I reluctantly nodded and followed him through the hall and into the living room/kitchen.

We'd gotten a small house this time. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a large room that doubled as the living room and the kitchen. Not that anyone could really tell, since the place was full of boxes and mismatching furniture. Most of the furniture wasn't ours, and the boxes of things like silverware, clothes, and books came from a friend of Chris's. I never was able to figure out who it was, but apparently, he was in Beacon Hills, too.

I really didn't want to ride in that truck, but it seemed like I had no choice until Chris could find a cheap car for me to drive. I'd even take a _bike _over that monstrosity. Chris didn't seem to care, though, since he happily hopped into the driver's seat and started the Eyesore up. Yep, that was the truck's name. The Eyesore. I grudgingly got in after him, finding my bag waiting for me on my seat.

"You know what we're looking for, right?" he asked me as I played with the charm hanging off of the bag's zipper. I slowly nodded.

"Signs of _Them_ being here, for one." I started, thinking back to the extensive list he'd rattled off on our drive here. "Whatever's causing the Shift, any indication that the pack is _actually _here and the local Alpha just isn't containing himself...Is there anything else I need to worry about?" I wondered, brows lifting. Chris shook his head, a shadow of a smile on his face.

"Just try to pass history, okay? We might move around a lot, but—" I cut him off.

"But that doesn't mean I shouldn't try to keep up my grades." I finished. "Right. Got it."

We kept up idle chit-chat until he pulled up to Beacon Hills High. It looked pretty east coast for a west coast school, but who was I to judge? After assuring Chris that, no, I wouldn't project, and yes, I'd try to keep out of trouble, I was finally able to flounce out of the Eyesore and dash up the stone steps. I didn't pay much attention to the other students around me, digging through my bag for my schedule. I made a triumphant noise when I found it, I walked inside and quickly merged into a crowd of nervous freshman obviously trying to sort out where they were going.

English first period, with J. Blake. An easy enough class. I halfway wished I could take an AP class, but I didn't have time for all of the homework that came with advanced classes, so, I was stuck with a regular English class in which we'd probably read books I'd already read five times before my fifteenth birthday. I could probably just sleep through that class.

I searched the little white paper for my locker number and combination, then realized that a locker would be virtually pointless after taking another look at my classes. They were all across campus. Sure, my Chemistry class was fairly close to Economics, but one was in second period, the other was last period. I'd have zero time for at least two weeks to get to my locker. I'd have to spend the five minute block running through the slow-walking couples that liked to take up the entire hall.

Giving up on that, I decided to just go to my first class a little early, breaking away from the chattering fifteen year olds and heading down the long hall to my left. I walked past several people, and I was pretty aware of the looks I got, but I chose to ignore it, watching as the classroom numbers changed until I came to a stop in front of A4.

I moved to open the closed door, but recoiled the second my hand touched the handle, I quickly looked at my palm, which had turned red on contact with the metal handle. It was slowly turning back to its usual white color, but it hurt like it had been shoved into a fire. Frowning, I inspected my hand carefully before cautiously trying to open the door. No pain this time. I almost didn't want to go in, but, still feeling a few stares on my back, pushed the door open anyway.

There was a young woman organizing her desk, with long, silky brown curls and a friendly face. She looked up when I entered, and I immediately decided she was too young to be a teacher.

"The bell hasn't rung yet, has it?" she asked, sounding just a little panicked. I shook my head and she let out a nervous laugh, offering me a smile. I reciprocated, spreading an easy grin across my face and deciding immediately that this woman was far too harmless to have a Fae protection spell around her classroom. It was probably someone else in the school..."Right, sorry. It's my first time teaching in a while, I'm just a little nervous."

I shrugged, letting the door shut behind me as I stepped further into her classroom. Thank God. It was void of those ridiculous kitten posters that said 'hang in there' and other motivational things like that.

"It's understandable, especially with high schoolers." I replied, Ms. Blake smiled at me again, this time a little less timid. I wondered briefly if she had social anxiety or something. (Which would make her decision to teach a bunch of mouthy high school juniors a very poor one.)

"I don't think I caught your name...?" she trailed off a little expectantly. I assessed her for just a moment longer before answering.

"Keller Ryan." I introduced myself and took a seat in the middle of the room, looking around the classroom once again. I had to take back the thing about the kitten poster. There was one right next to a bookshelf. Dammit.

"Well, Keller, I've got to go to the teacher's lounge, so I'm trusting you to not tear the classroom apart while I'm gone." Ms. Blake joked weakly, then hurried out of the room, her beige heels clicking loudly on the tiled floor. Who _really _wanted to wear heels at school? Sure, it was cute and went with her outfit, but she was going to be standing most of the day...Oh, well. To each their own.

The bell was going to ring in just a few minutes, so, to keep myself occupied until then, I pulled my phone out and started checking out Facebook for anything exciting. Nothing new, so my next destination was the app store. I searched for something new to play while the bell rang and a large group of students came flowing into the room, talking to each other loudly. I didn't look up as they all filled the seats around me, finding a fascination with a game of Solitaire I'd started. Two boys sat next to me, talking like the others were, but the topic was probably the most amusing.

"Scott, you know, last night, I had this revelation." the one closest to me said. I kept my eyes on the phone, pretending to not listen as the one in front of him sighed.

"And what was that, Stiles?" the other one, Scott, asked, sounding like he already knew what was coming.

Stiles shifted in his seat, making the desk scrape across the floor. "You didn't get the tattoo because _fate _was trying to tell you that you _shouldn't _get that ugly, completely uncreative _disaster_ permanently _stained _into your skin!" I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing out loud. I could practically _feel _the other boy roll his eyes.

"I'm still getting the tattoo. I'm going to Derek's after school and having him do it." The amount of exasperation in his tone actually deserved an award. A girl's voice cut in and I quickly lost interest, focusing back on my cards.

Out of nowhere, my phone started blaring out the chorus to my favorite song, just as everyone else's phones started to chime or buzz. Cheeks heating up, I fumbled with my phone until it stopped, hastily opening the text to make it shut up. Just as I saw the message, I heard Ms. Blake's voice reading a quote from _Heart of Darkness, _and glanced up to find her walking into the classroom with her own phone in hand.

She informed us that that was the first and _last _text we would receive in her class, and while some people seemed to appreciate what a cool entrance that was, I was more or less wondering how she got everyone's number. I shrugged it off, pocketing my phone once the screen went completely black and gave her my full attention, listening as she explained the syllabus she was handing out, and what to expect for the year.

When my row's stack of papers came to me, I grabbed the sheet on top and passed it back, looking over the classroom expectations. Huh. For someone so friendly, she sure did have a lot of rules.

_**xXx**_

**And there, my lovelies, is the first chapter! What did you guys think? I hope you liked it! Here's some info about this fic!**

**I started writing it about a month before season 3 began, and I somehow got the idea from a few of Fall Out Boy's songs, like My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark (Light 'Em Up)—which is actually how this story got its name—Alone Together, Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued, and Sugar, We're Going Down. As season three progressed, I started changing some things to fit the story, but, basically, this is an AU of season 3. (At least 3A, for now. Who knows what I'll do for 3B.) Some events are going to be different—most of them, really—and I'm really just going back and slightly editing some of the earlier chapters I wrote before s3 began. I've been writing this for a while, and I figured it's time to publish it!**

**Keller and Chris aren't your run-of-the-mill brother and sister, if you couldn't guess from the first few paragraphs. I'm not going to tell you exactly what their deal is, or necessarily what they both are—I did sort of tell you all what Keller is, but not Chris—or **_**why **_**on Earth they would burn down their house and who they're running from/looking for until later in the story, so hopefully it interests you enough to keep reading!**

**As always with these Teen Wolf fics, thanks to kaljara for convincing me to publish this, even when I thought the idea was too weird, and letting me know that it's no big deal that ALL of my Teen Wolf fics happen to be Stiles/OC. (IT'S STILES, OKAY? HE'S MY BABY AND I JUST WANT HIM TO BE LOVED BY EVREYONE EVER.) Okay, before this author's note becomes longer than the fic (it's at roughly 300 words right now...Meh.), I'm going to leave you with this!**

**Review, please! Let me know how I'm doing, and if you're interested in a second chapter! Adios til then, cuties!**


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